Sick of Losing Soulmates
by lulamae-golightly
Summary: "We will grow old as friends/I've promised that before/so what's one more?" / Daria is home from college for the summer. She's also working on her first full length novel. Trent is working on his first solo album. They're both looking for inspiration. But how does one find inspiration in Lawndale, of all places?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Oh man...hi! I'll keep this little intro short. I haven't posted on here in ages. I haven't written anything for Daria in even longer. But the show still has such a special place in my heart, and I've been rewatching it lately. I'm at a different place in my life than I was when I wrote my other Daria fics (most of which have been taken down out of embarrassment from bad writing), but something was just driving me to write this. I can't help but still love the Daria/Trent pairing, and I'm excited to write about them once again.**

 **Daria doeesn't belong to me!**

Jet lag was a hell of a thing. Daria had greeted her family one by one: her mother exclaiming excitedly that she looked _so grown up_!, her father asking how college was going, and Quinn giving her a smothering hug. She was too tired to make chitchat for too long, so she used the jet lag excuse to escape to her room. It was so empty, it was almost eerie. Her dorm had become cluttered with most of her things now, after three years of college.

Tired but not wanting to sleep, she pulled her clunky laptop out of her suitcase and set it on her desk where her old desktop used to be. Once connected to the internet, she opened a document in one window and her instant messenger in another. Three friends online: Jane, Trent, and Aunt Amy. She instantly clicked to Jane's name; if she was online, she had made it home.

 _Hey,_ Daria typed.

 _hey there! you home or what?_ Jane asked.

 _Home again, home again. You?_

 _hell yea. wanna come over? or should i go there?_

 _Come here, but be sneaky. My parents are a bit happy go lucky about me being home._

 _some things never change. see ya in a sec_

Jane's screen name went from the online section to the offline. Daria closed her messenger and went back to her document, staring at it for awhile. She had stopped in the middle of a sentence last time she had written-which had been almost a week ago. She worried that once she lost ideas for this story, they would never come back. She scowled at her screen for a few seconds until she heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Hi," she opened the door for Jane, inviting her into her empty room.

"God, I missed you," she smiled.

"You saw me a few days ago," she chuckled, returning to her computer chair while Jane made herself comfortable on her floor.

"Yeah, but I get snark withdrawals when I don't have anyone to...snark with," she replied. "Maybe you should get that checked out," Daria said, looking toward her screen for a moment.

"Whatcha working on?"

"Umm...nothing special," she shrugged.

"Ooh, is it a steamy erotica?" Jane teased. "Now I know why you never talk about your writing."

"Yeah right."

"Hey, those Melody Powers stories could get pretty spicy at times," she retorted. "Then again, she usually murdered the guy after all the action…"

"A girl has needs, you know," she minimized the document, sick of looking at the blinking cursor.

"What's this one about? My girl Melody?"

"No, sorry. It's...I don't know, it's hard to explain. I don't even know where it's going," she sighed, closing her laptop.

"Ah. Stuck in a rut, huh? An artist's struggle."

"I'm no artist," she held up a hand.

"Oh, shut up, yes you are. Just because I work with paint and you work with words doesn't mean you're not an artist."

She grumbled a 'thanks' in response. "It's just frustrating when I lose all inspiration like this. Especially after weeks of hard work."

"Your hard work is still there, you can come back to it. Maybe you need a drink."

"Hey, I know I'm 21 and all, but I'm not drinking in the middle of the day. Not yet anyway."

"Fine. A coffee?"

She knew that wouldn't help her jet lag (the caffeine would just give her a bigger crash), but nodded anyway. "Yeah, sounds okay. I've got a headache, so I don't wanna stay out too long."

"You're getting boring in your old age. What happened to wild, young, and free Daria?" Jane nudged her.

"She's taking a nap, or something," she said. She slung her bag over her shoulder, grabbing her dog-eared notebook along with it. "Now boring Daria gets time to play."

"Good thing I like her, too," Jane half-smiled and lead her down the stairs. "Can we take my car?"

"You mean Trent's?"

"Hey, just because he drives it to work doesn't mean it's strictly his."

"What's he doing nowadays?" she asked, slipping out the door of her house and walking with Jane to the Lane residence.

"Working at a music shop and giving people advice on what guitars to buy, tuning them...music stuff, you know. He does the occasional show here and there too."

"Solo shows?"

"Yeah. Doing his own thing. Such is the Lane way, you know?" she pulled Daria into the house to grab his car keys. "He asked about you whenever he called."

Daria bit the inside of her cheek. "That's nice of him," she mused, feeling a bit guilty about not keeping in touch with Trent over the past few years, aside from summers, and even then, he was, as Jane said, doing his own thing. "He could've called me."

"Mind if I invite him to coffee with us? He still likes to hibernate in his room," she said, grabbing the keys off a counter.

"Sure. Glad he hasn't changed too much," she smiled softly but fondly.

"I'll yell at him," Jane replied, leaning over the staircase. "Trent! We're going for coffee and you're coming!"

"Who's we?" he asked, "Oh, hey Daria. Long time no see, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I hear you're pretty busy nowadays."

"Hey, ever since Janey left, I had to find someone to talk to other than Jesse and Nick. So...work helps, I think."

"Wow, I never expected you to say those words," she chuckled into her palm.

"At least I get to do what I like, you know? Working with music all day."

"I couldn't imagine you doing anything else," Daria said honestly. "Um, sorry Spiral never took off."

"Yeah, we all just kinda grew apart, y'know? It's a weird thing," he admitted, turning down the radio a few notches and watching Jane drive.

"Yeah...growing apart happens. Sometimes it's for the best," she replied, "I still think of my friends in Highland. Er, sort of friends. But we never talk anymore."

"Highland?"

"Where I used to live before Lawndale. It was in Texas," she replied.

"Hey Daria," Jane chimed, "Think we'll ever grow apart?"

"Sorry, Lane, that's one of your dreams that just won't come true," she said sardonically. They pulled up to the little cafe, which was thankfully not crowded during the midday. Daria was thankful for a little place of solace in Lawndale. It reminded her of the cafes in Boston-it was like a piece of the town had followed her home. They found a table by the window, pulling out her notebook.

"Hey, I'll get us some coffee, okay?" Trent said. Daia started fishing through her wallet, but she felt a hand lay gently on her wrist.

"My treat," Trent insisted. "I just got my paycheck."

"And you're spending it on coffee?" she glanced down. His hand hadn't left his spot on hers.

"I haven't seen you in ages. Just let me have this one thing," he smiled. Crush or no crush, Daria couldn't help but think he had a nice smile.

"Fine, I guess," she sighed, slipping her hand away reluctantly.

"Hmm, for some reason I feel like you would willingly accept people paying for you," Jane said as Trent made his way to the cashier. "Have you forgotten that you don't have a conscience?"

"Oops," she said, swinging her feet under the table. "All that college and studying has made me forget to maintain my carefully crafted persona."

"Oh, stop," Jane kicked her lightly. "It's cute you let my brother pay. Reminds me of the good old days."

"Good old days? You mean when I sixteen?"

"Yeah, and your face turned bright red every time he looked in your direction," she smiled dryly.

Daria scowled a little. "Do you know how long ago that was?"

"Long enough for me to tease you about it," she said. "Besides, you've had boyfriends since then. It's not like you're still head over heels for him."

She gulped. Maybe not head over heels. But still...nevermind, that wasn't important. "Boyfriends? I've been on a few dates, I guess."

"Yeah, you're just picky with guys," she said. Trent came back with a tray of coffee cups. "Who's picky with guys?" he asked.

"Me, I guess," Daria picked up the hot cup, blowing on it slightly.

"You must get asked out a lot, huh?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Can we change the subject? You both know a conversation about my…love life is one of the most boring you could possibly have."

"Says who?" Trent asked, reaching for a cream packet.

"Says me. I don't make much of a romantic partner," Daria stirred her drink absentmindedly.

"What's in the notebook?" Jane asked, gesturing to the book sticking out of her bag.

"Oh, um, writing stuff," she shrugged. She couldn't even really describe what was in that notebook-it was full of little doodles imagining what her characters would look like, lines of dialogue she wanted to include at some point, ideas she had thought of in the wee hours of the morning and scribbled down before flopping back down in bed.

"Oh, that story you're working on?"

"It's more of a book at this point, actually," she said.

"Hey, that's cool," Trent said.

"Yeah, maybe you'll let me actually read something of yours this time?" Jane suggested with an eyebrow raise.

"Once it gets out of its rough draft stage. Its _very_ rough draft stage."

"Okay, but I wanna read it at least _before_ it becomes a best seller. Then I can say I knew Daria Morgendorffer before she got big," she insisted.

"Deal," she drained her coffee. "If it ever gets done," she had tried to write books before, but had always gotten stuck, and they sat, half-finished on her hard drive. She was beginning to worry that she would never do anything better than a few short stories.

After an hour or so, they left, going back to Jane's house. "I'm gonna take a shower," Jane said. "You gonna stick around tonight?"

"Yeah, probably," Daria said. "Mind if I do?"

"Now that's just a stupid question," she said, then sauntered off to the bathroom. Daria made her way down the stairs, wondering if anything was in the fridge. She heard a soft guitar coming from the living room. That was always a familiar sound in this house.

She peeked into the living room. "Hey there," she said.

"Hi, Daria," he said, looking up from his sheet music and patting a seat next to him on the couch. "How're you feeling?"

"Tired. Been a long day," she said. It was true-she had been up since the early morning for her flight, and now her eyes were drooping, threatening to refuse to stay open.

"So tell me more about this book you've been writing."

"It's nothing special. Realistic fiction," she replied. "No blood or guts."

"Hm. Any romance?" he asked with a teasing quirk of his brow.

"Maybe," she said, leaving it at that. She couldn't construct long, eloquent sentences right now.

After a few, long, quiet moments, Trent asked, "What's on your mind?"

"You," she said honestly. Ever since Jane's comment at the coffeeshop about her being 'picky', she had been perhaps a little too wrapped up in the past.

"Me? Well, that's kind of you," he chuckled. "What about me?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Lots."

"Don't waste time thinking about me," he said.

"Don't talk about yourself like that," she replied, very quietly. "I'm going to think about you as much as I want to, Trent," they hadn't talked like this in ages. She felt another sting of guilt about not keeping in touch. They could've grown apart so quickly. And though she prided herself on being realistic (growing apart did happen and was likely to happen), she didn't _want_ to grow apart. Not with him.

"I missed you, Daria," he said, strumming a nice sounding chord a few times.

"Really?" she asked, sinking into the couch and closing her eyes.

"Yeah. A lot."

He said some other things, but his voice and his guitar blended into one as she fell asleep.

 **A/N: I stayed up until midnight finishing my first chapter and I have rehearsal at 9 AM (still a theatre kid after all these years). Nonetheless, thank you so much for reading! Reviews are highly appreciated.**

- **Lulamae**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi again! Hope everyone's doing well. I'm really enjoying writing this story when I can find the time. I hope you all are enjoying it as well! Please review, and thank you to those who already have. :)**

 **Daria isn't mine and all that.**

Daria woke up on the Lane's couch, still in her clothes from the previous day. It took her a moment to remember how she ended up there, but then remembered-she had fallen asleep talking to Trent. Yikes, she thought, nothing more flattering than when you literally put someone to sleep. Still, he seemed to have covered her up with a blanket and put a pillow under her head, which brought a faint smile to her face. What a softie.

In normal circumstances she would've lingered in bed for a bit longer, but sleeping in her clothes made her feel grimy. Glancing at the clock, she knew there would be no way Jane or Trent would be up; it was eight AM, practically the wee hours of the morning to them. She climbed up the creaky stairs as quietly as she could, slipping into Jane's room where she had stored her things. Except she hadn't packed an extra pair of clothes. Ugh. She went back downstairs, deciding she would just walk the few extra blocks to her house for a shower.

"Daria?" a voice asked behind her as she was about to step out the door, making her jump.

"Agh!" she looked behind her quickly. "Oh, sorry, Trent, you scared me. This house is usually so quiet this time of the morning. You know, Lane Central Time."

He gave her a quizzical smile at that. "Lane Central Time?"

"Like how you two don't get up until the afternoon," she returned the smile, but hers was more teasing.

"Hey, I may still rely heavily on caffeine," he gestured to the coffee cup in his hand, "But I get up at...more normal hours, nowadays," he admitted. It was evident. She wasn't used to seeing him awake this early. "Anyway, were you going home?"

"Yeah. I was gonna take a shower here, but I sort of forgot my clothes back at my house," she glanced at the floor, realizing then her hair was probably a greasy mess, and her clothes wrinkled. Not exactly the most flattering look. But then again, it was Trent, why was it bothering her so much?

"Ah, I get it. Well, I could lend you an old shirt. You're, um, kinda short, so it would be like a dress on you," he looked down into his mug.

"That's nice of you, Trent, thanks," she said with her usual half smile and perhaps a little blush tinting her cheeks (she wouldn't admit it). "Uh…" she began, realizing she needed clean underwear if she was going to take a shower and change there. "Do you have any...um, any shorts?" Jesus Christ. How hard is it to ask for shorts?

"Oh, yeah," he said nonchalantly. "Don't worry, Daria, I've got you covered."

"Thanks," she breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'll grab my clothes and you can shower in the bathroom down here. It's much cleaner than Jane's," he smirked, then climbed up the stairs to get her some clothes. She pushed her glasses up briefly to rub her eyes. 21 years old and still couldn't talk to Trent Lane without sounding like an idiot. It wasn't that she was still head over heels for him, like Jane was reminiscing about the previous day.

Well, at least she didn't think she still felt that way.

There was no way she could still feel that way.

While she was lost in her thoughts, Trent came back down the stairs. "You okay?" he asked.

"Hm? Ah, yeah, I'm fine," she said. "Just...disoriented."

"Take your time, okay?" he handed her a faded L7 shirt and boxer shorts.

"L7? Nice," she inspected it. "Didn't know you liked them."

"Suzi Gardner was a great guitarist," he replied, "I got a lot of respect for that. I always knew you knew good music."

She shrugged. "I could always use new stuff to listen to."

"I'll show you my collection," he said. "After your shower."

"What, do I smell? Could've just told me," she fought back an emerging grin.

"No," he chuckled. "I want to make breakfast, and I have a hard time pulling myself away from you. So get your butt in there."

She turned away and made her way to the bathroom, her face too red to even turn around and flash him a sly look. The combination of his compliment and even the mere mention of her rear end coming from him, was...well, it was certainly something. He was sneaky like that, slipping a flirty tone into a seemingly casual conversation. She climbed into the shower, deciding Jane's shampoo and shower gel would work for today.

* * *

When she toweled off after her shower, she tied her hair up and slipped on Trent's shirts and boxers. They were comfy and warm, sort of like Trent's presence. She walked barefoot into the kitchen, where Trent was spraying something onto a pan. "Is that Trent Lane working with kitchen utensils? Why, I never in my life," Daria joked.

"Sorry, I didn't want to break the news about my double life this way, but you eventually had to find out…"

"Find out what, that you're the next Masterchef?" she peeked over to see what he had poured into the pan. "Mm, pancakes?"

"Yeah. I got that pancake batter mix in bags so I wouldn't have to eat toast or a granola bar before work every morning, but I could still make something quick."

"I assume you don't work today," she said.

"Nah. Someone picked up my shift. I...knew you and Janey would be back, and I wanted to spend time with you two, so I asked a coworker to cover me."

She sighed happily under her breath. "You're really something, Trent."

"A good something, or a bad something?"

"A different something than you used to be. Sure, you're still you, but…"

"Hey, I don't know if you know this, but living on your own sucks. The house was so quiet when you and Janey left. I couldn't go upstairs and know someone was there if I needed-or if she needed-someone to talk to. So, I looked around on the internet. First, for gigs, but that lead to jobs, and when I saw they needed someone to work at the music shop, I applied. It was weird at first, since I used to be so stubborn about where I was going," he flipped his pancake to the other side, "I was gonna make it big with the Spiral."

"So us leaving was your...realization?"

"Yeah, I guess-and even that took it's time. Like I said, I was kind of stubborn," a quiet moment passed. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I'm glad I decided to come back. And I'm thinking about how dumb I was to not keep in touch with you."

"Hey, you were busy, Daria, that's understandable," he slid the finished pancake onto a plate and poured more batter into the pan to make another, "I didn't think you abandoned me or anything. I know you better than that, I think."

"You do, Trent," she replied, "You and Jane know me better than...hell, better than I know myself at times."

"That's kinda what happens when you get to be really good friends with someone," he nodded with a knowing glint in his eye. "You just sort of...get it, after awhile. You get them. I realized you got me back when you and Janey were still in high school."

"Even though I," she hesitated, "Even though I could barely speak two words around you?"

"Aw, you weren't that bad," he nudged her a little, finishing the second pancake and searching through the cupboards for syrup.

"But I was," she groaned. "I was so damn into you, Trent." I am so damn into you, a fleeting echo at the back of her mind said.

"Yeah? I was honestly a little flattered by it. God knows what you saw in me," he found a bottle with a little bit of maple syrup, and used what he could to top off the pancakes.

"Don't say that," she replied, "You were like...the epitome of hot and cool. But obviously there were flaws. In both of us...life isn't like a movie where the 'dorky' girl gets with her friend's hot brother. I knew that then, and I still liked you...cared about you," she said, then added, "And I still care about you now."

He tipped her chin up with his finger so their eyes would meet. "I wish I could thank you for that."

"No need to thank me, but pancakes are certainly a plus in my opinion."

"You're being too kind," he joked, handing her a plate, her pancake topped with butter, whipped cream, and syrup.

"Well, it's like I said last night. I missed you," she sat down at the table, cutting off a piece of the warm cake. "Oh, yeah, sorry for falling asleep like that."

He waved it off. "Nah, no big deal. I figured you would be pretty tired. It was pretty cute, actually. I noticed you were being quiet and I looked over and you were out."

"Cute?" she mixed the whipped cream around a bit.

"Yeah, you snore."

"What?"

"Just a little bit," he winked.

* * *

After breakfast, Trent and Daria made their way down to his room to check out his music collection as promised. "Sorry for the mess," he said, glancing around at the cluttered room. "Gotta write myself a note or something."

"It's okay. It smells a lot better in here than it used to," she said, biting the inside of her cheek.

"I got one of those air freshener things you plug into the wall," he sat down on the bed and grabbed a box from nearby. She briefly considered sitting on the floor, but that was silly. She could be close to Trent without blushing mad now. She sat next to him on his bed, digging through his cassette tape collection.

"Where are all your CDs?" she teased.

"I have some, I just have more tapes," he said, dusting off an old one. "Hey, this one's good."

She leaned in a little to look at the cover. "Splendora? I don't think I've heard of them."

"Another girl group. Pretty indie. I guess they were short lived. They never put anything else out. They had some great guitar riffs, though. Wanna listen?"

"I'd love to," she said honestly. He plugged the tape into his stereo, then returned to the bed. He laid back, hands behind his head, and Daria followed suit. She closed her eyes and let herself really listen to the music, putting the thought that she was lying next to Trent out of her mind. "It's good," she murmured after the first song. "Really good."

"Thought you'd like it," he replied, and she was snapped out of her haze a little bit when she realized how close he sounded. She shivered a bit, willing her tense body to relax, but it was hard. She finally was able to sag back into the groove of the mattress about halfway through track two. She was pressed against his side, wondering how he was always so warm.

They didn't hear the footsteps coming until they reached the door. "Trent, can you turn that down-oh," Jane stopped in the doorway. "What's with me and catching you two in bed together?" she winked.

"You know it wasn't like that," Daria grumbled. Trent paused the music.

"Sorry, did it wake you?"

"Maybe, but it's okay," she shrugged. "Any breakfast?"

"Leftover pancakes."

"Daria, want some?"

"Um…" she began, realizing Jane didn't know she had accidentally spent the night. "I already had some."

"Man, you two are really making a day out of it, huh?" Jane said with a hint of suspicion.

Daria stood up. "We were just hanging out. I'll have...half a pancake with you, or something," she said, smoothing out her hair.

"Thanks, mon ami," she said, heading for the stairs. Daria looked over to Trent before leaving.

"Is she trying to imply something?"

"Maybe. She's probably just teasing, she does that. She just sounds grumpy because that's how she is in the morning."

"I've been her friend for quite awhile, Trent; I know what she's like in the morning."

He laughed at that. "Go spend some time with her. Sorry for keeping you."

"Don't apologize. Thanks for the pancakes. And the music. And, everything, I guess."

"Next time, you bring some of your music."

"There's gonna be a next time?"

"Why wouldn't there be?"'

A faint smile wouldn't leave Daria's face as she climbed the stairs to meet Jane.

 **A/N: Reviews are always appreciated! Thanks for reading.**

 **-Lulamae**


End file.
